The Social Ladder
by Ctgguy
Summary: After becoming McKinley's newest quarterback, Sam Evans just wants to maintain his popularity.  Can he do this while pursuing developing feelings for one Kurt Hummel, or is he destined to loserdom?
1. Slushie 101

Okay, I'll admit it. This is my first time actually writing something like this, but with rumors of some Blaine kid being Kurt's boyfriend instead of Sam (which I refuse to believe), I just needed to fulfill my Kurt/Sam cravings. That being said, I probably don't have the intricacies of fanfiction writing down, so read this with a grain of salt.

And I do not own Glee.

* * *

Sam Evans was content with how much progress he had made in the first week of the school year. As a transfer student, he expected to be on the bottom rung of the social ladder; however, McKinley High was different than any school he had previously attended. For one, the bottom spot on the ladder was reserved for the Glee Club. Even transfers ranked above them, Sam quickly noticed. So when one Finn Hudson approached him about joining Glee, he had quite a few reservations. He decided to wait a few days and see if auditioning really would be the equivalent of social suicide. After all, three members of the football team had been able to maintain their reputations and be in Glee simultaneously. Surely he would be able to follow in their footsteps.

However, the next day, Finn Hudson was kicked off the football team and Sam was offered the position of quarterback. Though he felt bad for Finn, Sam decided that the opportunity to rise to the top was just too valuable to pass up. If that meant taking Finn's place, then Sam would just have to accept it. And if that also meant not auditioning for Glee Club, he could handle it. Even though everyone had been so nice and welcoming, Sam had a reputation to create. Glee Club would surely understand that it really was nothing personal; it was just how things worked. In the end, Sam reasoned, Finn would do the exact same thing to maintain his popularity, right?

Soon after the football tryouts, Sam began noticing changes in how the other students viewed him. People would part for him in the hallways, half the Cheerios squad was asking him out, and even the teachers were treating him as if he were royalty. He could definitely get used to this.

However, Sam quickly learned that being the quarterback also came with perks that he was less willing to accept.

"Here, take this," Karofsky, another new addition to the football team, said to Sam one day during lunch, handing him what looked to be a slushie.

"Hey, thanks," Sam said, taking a sip of the sugary beverage. This was new to him. Not only were people worshiping the ground he walked on but now free food?

"What are you doing?" Karofsky practically yelled. Sam noticed that the burly ex-hockey player had a problem with volume control. "You're not actually supposed to drink that shit! That's nasty!"

"I'm not?" the blond jock asked, taking another sip. He actually found the taste to be kind of addictive.

"No. It's Thursday. On Thursday, we each slushie a member of the Freak Club. And since you're quarterback, we feel it's only fitting that you get first choice."

"Slushie...them?"

"Evans, you can be so dense sometimes. Here, watch." Karofsky walked into the hallway with a bright blue slushie of his own and approached a girl wearing an awful sweater with puppies on it. Sam halfway recognized her from that weird Glee performance a few days prior, but couldn't remember her name. When she noticed Karofsky approaching her, her eyes widened slightly, and she began to turn away, but it was too late. To Sam's horror, Karofsky dumped the entire contents of his cup on the girl's head, drenching her in corn syrup-laden chunks of ice. Sam was even more surprised that she took it in stride, tossing her hair and heading to the nearest ladies' room. Could it be that the girl was used to this sort of treatment?

"And that," Karofsky said, giving Sam a high five, "is how we keep the freaks from running the school."

Sam gave a weak smile. So he was expected to throw this cup of slushie at someone? Someone in Glee? Though he would never voice such a thought, Sam was disheartened. After all, the Glee guys had treated him so well when he interviewed with them. However, things were really good right now, and if he didn't slushie someone, then would he be the one on the receiving end of said slushie? Sam decided that he would need to discuss the whole slushie thing with Finn, to find out how the ex-quarterback was able to maintain some degree of dignity without becoming a complete ass. But there wasn't time for that now, as Karofsky stared at him expectantly.

"Umm... Karofsky?"

"What's the matter; you got cold feet? You another Glee-loving homo, like Finn?"

"No!" Sam quickly retorted, "I just don't know who is in the Glee Club. I mean, I'm new here, as you know, so I haven't gotten a chance to find out who to avoid yet."

"Oh," Karofsky stated simply, thinking it over. "Well then," he said, smiling wickedly. "Let me introduce you to the most prime piece of slushie real estate on campus."

* * *

So that's the first chapter. Ever.

I know it's on the short side, but it feels good to have actually completed something. Anyway, let me know what you think in the reviews. Oh, and constructive criticism is especially welcome. After all, I need the help of all those astute readers out there to actually improve my writing. Thanks for reading!

Update: I have a beta now, which means better chapters for everyone! I'm going through what I've written already, making corrections, so that this story can be even more fantastic.


	2. Slushie 102

Karofsky didn't need to point out the slushie target to Sam—he could tell just by looking. In a hallway full of students dressed in t-shirts and jeans, a pair of students blatantly stood out from the crowd. Sam recognized the first one. She was one of the lead singers in that Empire State of Mind performance and had one of the most powerful voices Sam had ever heard. She was talking excitedly to a slender guy who Sam didn't recognize. He was wearing what looked like a designer shirt and a funny hat. Was he in Glee as well? Well, judging by the fact that no one in the hallway made the slightest eye contact with either one of them, Sam was willing to bet he was.

"That's him," Karofsky said. "Name's Kurt. That queer is the reason all those jocks started joining Homo Explosion. Azimio told me he forced everyone on the team to learn some fruity dance to Single Ladies last year, and that's when Rutherford, Chang, and even Puckerman decided that they were done being guys." Sam was beginning to realize that even uttering the word 'Glee' was offensive to the bully.

"So you want me to slushie him?" Sam asked, knowing the answer fully well.

"Yeah. I'll set up the opportunity and you take the shot. Teamwork, huh?"

Karofsky grinned. Sam decided that he didn't like it when Karofsky smiled. It made him look both stupider and a little sinister, not that Sam would ever say that to his face. Sam returned with a halfhearted smirk of his own. He really didn't want the Glee guys ganging up on him for this. Some of them looked pretty buff. Well, not the wheelchair kid, but most of them. And since he didn't have any friends yet, this would really put a damper on those few relationships he had begun. Alternatively, if he didn't go through with it, Karofsky and his friend Azimio were that much more buff. Sam grimaced.

"Hey, Homo—I mean, Hummel!" Karofsky shouted as he and Sam approached the slender boy.

Kurt Hummel rolled his eyes and slowly clapped twice.

"Wow, Karofsky," he said, voice oozing with sarcasm, "That was _really_ witty. It must have taken you weeks to think of that one."

Sam's eyes widened in surprise a little. This kid had to have a lot of nerve to talk to Karofsky that way. Heck, not even _he_ would dare insult the burly football player, and he had a little bit of muscle to speak of.

"Nope. It only took me two days," Karofsky retorted, pleased with himself. Sam suppressed a chuckle. Comebacks were something that Karofsky just couldn't pull off. Honestly, Sam was pretty proud of himself as a comeback artist, so he felt a little embarrassed to stand next to someone who had accepted _that_ as a witty comeback.

"So, to what do I owe this _honor?_" Kurt asked icily.

"I want to introduce you to my new friend, Sam. I don't know if you've heard, but he's the new quarterback. When Sam heard about you, he figured he'd get you a little present."

Sam noticed Kurt's eyes slightly widen involuntarily. Karofsky probably hadn't noticed it, Sam thought, since the boy was able to regain composure with expert speed. Heck, it was only because he happened to be looking at Kurt's eyes at the moment that he even caught the lapse.

Slightly distracted, Sam said simply "It's a slushie," and pulled the cup from behind his back.

"Awww, hell to the naw!"

The girl next to Kurt decided to make her voice heard. Stepping threateningly toward the blond jock, she continued shouting, "What makes you think you can just prance in here and slushie my man Kurt? You think you're somethin' special, just 'cause you're the quarterback? Well, I've got news for you—you're not. So why don't you turn that fine rear of yours around and just walk away? 'Cause if you don't, I swear I'm not afraid to take you down myself!"

Suffice it to say, Sam was quite intimidated, but Karofsky just pushed right by him and stood face-to-face with the girl. He raised his hand threateningly and Sam found himself unable to silence himself.

"DON'T YOU DARE!" he and Kurt shouted simultaneously. Kurt's eyes lit up a little and he surveyed the blond jock anew, making Sam feel a little uncomfortable. He didn't like being appraised. As the new kid, he'd been going through that for a week and was tired of it.

Karofsky looked at Sam ominously. "I wouldn't. I have a moral code. I'd never hit any girl, except for Hummel. I'm just setting up a shot."

Sam lifted the cup of slushie. So, this was how it was going to happen, huh? A low blow?

"Do it," Sam heard Kurt say.

"What?"

"This is what you want, right? Popularity? Friends? To be on top while you're in high school because deep down, you know that you're going to be a loser when you graduate? Well here's your chance to get all of that". Kurt lifted his head up high and braced himself for the impending blow. He was going to act like he was above all of this, no matter what damage was done to his outfit.

The following series of events seemed to happen in slow motion to Sam. Incensed by the smaller boy's taunts, he tossed the drink at Kurt, the colored ice forming an arc in the air as it traveled toward him. Sam grimaced, instantly regretting the action, while Karofsky grinned his creepy smile. The girl's brow furrowed as her eyes followed the trail of ice until it made contact.

The deed was done.

"Happy now?" Kurt spat, giving Sam a hardened stare behind a layer of slush before promptly heading to the nearest women's restroom with his friend. Karofsky congratulated Sam on his first slushie, and went his separate way, probably to torture the annoying Jewish kid who tried to interview Sam on his first day. The bell rang, signaling the end of lunch, and all the students began to leave the hall and head to class. Sam, however, just stood there alone, shaken by what he had done.

"No," he whispered.


	3. US History

The weekend couldn't come quickly enough for Sam.

On Friday, there had been a noticeable change in the way that other students regarded him. He still was popular and his classmates still parted for him in the hallway, but they did it with a look of fear in their eyes. It was exactly as Karofsky had said—there would be no chance of an uprising of the unpopular in this school. Not as long as this fear paralyzed them.

It wasn't as good, Sam decided. What he loved about being popular was the respect that people had for him, not necessarily the way they catered to his every whim, fearing retribution by slushie. And the guilt—that was the worst part. After English class, Sam had been storing some of his books in his locker when Kurt started coming down the hallway.

"Hey Kurt. Excited for the weekend?" Sam said awkwardly, trying his best to flash a smile at the other boy that would show him he was truly repentant for his actions.

Kurt said nothing. He simply turned his nose slightly upward and ran his hand through his perfect hair, continuing down the hallway. Sam just stood there, steeped in guilt, until the bell reminded him that he had to go to his U.S. History class. At least schoolwork would distract from the guilt, Sam reasoned. He could spend the whole period trying to understand the material, cursing his dyslexia, instead of having an internal crisis about the slushie. However, when Finn walked into the classroom and took the seat next to him, Sam realized that not even class would let him escape.

Sometime between William Henry Harrison and Tyler Something-or-another, Finn turned to Sam and started whispering.

"That was really uncool, dude. Kurt's, like, really pissed."

Sam hissed out of the corner of his mouth, watching the teacher warily, "Did you just come here to lecture me? Are you even in this class?"

"Yeah—just remembered today when I saw the book in my locker. And don't worry; Mr. Reed can't even hear the fire alarm go off. He's not going to hear us. Besides, we have to talk."

"Look, I'm sorry I slushied him. I didn't really want to, but then he started saying some really awful things about me and I just couldn't help it. I'm really trying to do well here what with my dyslexia and—and everything, so when someone calls me a loser, it really hits home. I mean, I probably have to work twice as hard as that Kurt kid to even pass a class, while I'm sure he pulls straight As in his sleep. Besides, Karofsky was there. He would have totally beaten me up if I hadn't gone through with it."

"I get it. Trust me. Karofsky made me slushie Kurt once, too. But do you know what he did? He slushied himself, just so I wouldn't have to. Look, he does have a way of making me feel stupid, but he's a good guy, Sam. He's just not afraid to be Kurt, which makes him a target. No one deserves to be slushied—go through it once, and you'll see why."

"Wait. You're saying that _you've_ gotten slushied?"

"Yeah, twice actually. And it sucks. Like, it really sucks."

Sam found himself starting to understand why Finn had brought that wheelchair guy with him to football tryouts that one day. Finn had been popular, true, but he had also seen the other side of the coin. He was, at once, dumb and enlightened—and Sam realized that Finn could hold the answers to a lot of the questions that were digging at his mind.

"But you were the quarterback, right? It wasn't because you joined Glee, was it?"

"Sort of. Joining Glee hurt my rep a lot, but mainly it was Karofsky. He used to be a hockey player—second tier of the social ladder below the football players—and when he heard that I got my girlfriend pregnant..." Finn paused and blushed slightly, continuing hastily, "Which I totally didn't, you know. It was my best friend and... well, I don't really want to talk about it. Let's just say that Karofsky seized the moment to become more popular than me." He was quickly turning the color of a tomato, tripping over his words as he tried to correct himself. "I mean, it's not like I _wouldn't _have, you know. I mean, I'm not, like, you know, a virgin or anything..."

Sam, who had been grinning at Finn's attempt to create a coherent thought, felt his face fall slightly. Though he'd never admit it, he was a virgin. He'd reasoned that he just hadn't found the right person, and that worked for a time, but he was becoming increasingly tired of the excuse. After all, being the quarterback at McKinley, he was spoiled for choice: half of the Cheerios squad had written his name surrounded by little hearts in the notebooks Sue provided them. No, it had to be something else—but Sam didn't want to think about it. All that would do is make him feel even more uncomfortable.

"Dude, chill. I just was wondering how you managed both Glee and football. I mean," Sam said, looking up at Finn, "I do want to join, that is, if you guys'll forgive me. I just have it good right now, you know? I don't really like the slushies, but no one here even thinks twice anymore about the fact that I'm new here. But I don't have any real friends yet, and when I sang _Billionaire_... it was cool. I felt like I had a place, without having to try."

"I'm sure the club would love to have you. Look, you don't have to be quarterback to have people who respect you here. In Glee, there are ten other people who love me, even when I say something dumb. True, we have our own drama, but no more than anyone else here. I'm sure even if you told the Glee Club that you'd quit football, they'd totally be cool with you joining."

"Wait. Who said anything about quitting football? I like being the quarterback. You used to do both, right?"

The flush returned to Finn's face as he stammered, "Y-Yeah, I just assumed..."

Comprehension came to Sam very quickly, and suddenly he realized just why Finn had chosen the seat next to _him_ today, despite being angry that Sam had slushied Kurt.

"This... we're not talking about me, are we?" Sam said slowly, creasing his brow slightly.

Finn shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

"We are. I mean, I really want you to join Glee. You're really talented. But..." Finn paused, and let the next sentence flow from his lips like a flood: "Today Coach Beiste let Artie and me back on the team and I really want to be the quarterback." Finn gasped for air and continued just as rapidly, "And I really want to show Rachel that I'm not choosing football over her and I'm really sorry."

"What?" Sam asked, still having trouble comprehending even the beginning of the other jock's statement.

"I'm back on the team."

"I know that. Coach Beiste told us at practice this morning. So I guess you want to be quarterback again, right?"

Finn cast his eyes downward.

"Yeah."

"Well then," Sam said, and his face lit up with the first genuine smile he'd had all day. Angst was foreign to him; however, competition was something that he could enjoy. "Try to get it, but don't do it by trying to make me feel all guilty and forcing me to quit. Here's the deal: we settle this like normal dudes would. If you can prove to Coach Beiste that you're a better quarterback, then I won't stand in your way. But I'm not going to go soft on you".

"What about Glee?"

"What about it? If you can do both and somehow maintain your popularity, then I can certainly do the same. People respect me now, and as long as I end up holding on to the quarterback position, I've got nothing to worry about."

Finn gave Sam a lopsided grin.

"You're on."

* * *

A/N: Deleted sentence that had to be shared.

(Sam had heard that Sue had every Cheerio write down each and every thing that he or she ate in this notebook for the purposes of weight tracking. However, when she discovered Santana's list read more like an adult novel than a grocery list, she decided that the notebooks would instead be kept for personal use)


	4. Glee Club

Well, here we are again. I'd like to take this opportunity to thank the 3R Club (those who reviewed each of my first three chapters) member by member, so if you're solely interested in the story, skip on down. But these people have been guiding lights of sorts, so they deserve my love. (I do love all of you who have reviewed once or twice-some of those reviews are the most detailed and helpful. I just don't have the room at this header to give my love individually to each of you)

the darkness revealed: You seem to be enjoying the direction of the story (which you were excited about from the start). Thanks for that, and for the constant support  
Lulu1701: As I've mentioned, writing Sam as a non-Finn is one of my greatest challenges, and you've been there from the start assuring me that I'm succeeding. Thank you.  
BridgesOfSighs: I'm glad to see I have some support in my pro-Sam sentiments (in addition to the praise for the story that you've given). Thanks.  
evol love: Again, thanks for the (evol) love. (I couldn't resist) Hope you thought Grilled Cheesus was as awesome as I did. Thank you.  
DtecnoKira: Your reviews not only support my story, but also support my first efforts as a writer. For that, thank you.  
Sara Ines: I put a good amount of thought into my word choice, so to see that you enjoy my wording in this story is delightful. Thanks and welcome to the 3R Club!

By the way, anyone else notice a Kurt/Sam moment in the next episode promo? 'Cause I certainly did. Let's see if the real Kurt and Sam can be more civil than mine are.

I don't own Glee, and for once, I'm glad. I could never have come up with anything as brilliant as Grilled Cheesus. Oh, and I don't own the song that I'm going to use in this chapter.

* * *

Sunday morning, Sam awoke with a start. He had done it. He had found the secret to being in Glee and being popular: no one cared about Glee Club. And since no one cared about Glee Club, he could do absolutely anything within the safety of the choir room without it hurting his reputation. True, being in Glee would be a hard blow to his reputation, and he'd have to be the quarterback to withstand that, but if he did, then he could do whatever he wanted.

He could be friends with the members of the Glee Club. He could be popular. He could apologize to Kurt.

All he had to do was keep quarterback and audition successfully for Glee. Then he would be home free.

However, as he glanced ruefully toward his homework, Sam realized that he would be at a disadvantage in the coming battle for quarterback. Finn was probably out practicing, but because Sam had missed most of Friday's U.S. History lesson, he would have to work extra just to complete the homework. As long as he paid attention, then Sam could get just as much from lecture as anyone else. It was when he missed something and had to turn to the dreaded textbook that Sam felt he was at a disadvantage. And whether or not he had done so on purpose, Finn had ensured that Sam would be spending his weekend with a pencil instead of a pigskin.

At 7pm, Sam finally set down his schoolwork. He decided that it was too late to practice football, and instead flipped absentmindedly through his music collection, looking for a song to audition for the Glee Club with. After spending an hour trying to find the perfect song, he decided to let fate play a hand and chose a song at random using shuffle. Looking down at the track title in front of him, Sam smirked a little. It would never have been his first choice—it was a little too dramatic—but it worked in a strange sort of way. Satisfied with the day's efforts, Sam leaned back and looked up his ceiling, thinking that tomorrow was going to be interesting, to say the least.

Sam woke up early the next day, nervous about the upcoming audition. He took a quick shower and donned his letterman's jacket. Though it wasn't a McKinley jacket, it still commanded respect, and that would be vital to his plan. He needed to keep himself as popular as possible, so that when he walked through the doors of the choir room that afternoon, he would still command a similar degree of respect from his peers.

Apparently, word of Thursday's slushie had traveled even farther over the weekend. When Sam entered the hallways of McKinley High that morning, the other students literally parted for him. They stood up against the lockers on either side of the hall, averting the eye contact he was desperately trying to make with them. And, once again, Sam was disappointed. He never wanted this, especially to the extent that it had spiraled into.

"Sam Evans, can I look at you?" he heard one of the younger Cheerios squeal from one of the walls.

He smiled and looked over to his side, and the cute brunette girl promptly fainted. Sam chuckled—this school was _much_ more dramatic than his last one. It was almost comical how the students overreacted to everything. But it was also frightening. If they acted this way when they liked him, what would happen if he ever fell out of their good graces?

In U.S. History, Finn turned to Sam to speak with him again. Sam sighed—he knew he was committing to another extra hour of homework.

"Hey, Sam," Finn whispered once Mr. Reed had turned to the board, "You're not going to bail on us again, right?"

"No. When are auditions again?"

"3pm in the auditorium".

Sam gulped. "The auditorium? I thought you guys practice in the choir room".

"Yeah, but we do auditions in the auditorium because that's more like the places where we compete. The choir room stuff is usually just for fun or when we feel like we need to express ourselves".

"Okay. Hey, Finn, you're not pissed that I want to keep quarterback, are you?"

Finn looked down at his blank notebook in concentration before finally answering.

"No," he said slowly, "It's what I would want, too. It's what I _do_ want. And you're not pissed that I'm going to show Coach Beiste that I'm better?"

"You mean _try_ to show her that you're better?"

"No". Finn grinned.

Sam raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, I'm cool with it. But try to remember that I'm still new here. You still get a certain level of popularity just because you used to be the quarterback. I'm starting off at a much more critical level. I need to establish my place here, which is why I'll fight for quarterback tooth and nail, especially now that I'm auditioning for Glee".

Sam left U.S. History assured that the first big game of the season on Friday would be a quarterback showdown of sorts. But first, he had to concentrate on getting into Glee club. At 3, he entered the school's auditorium through the stage door. The stage was bare except for a small band, a lonely microphone center stage, and a slightly grumpy looking pianist. Through the glare of the stage lights, he could tell that the Glee Club was already assembled in the audience, waiting for him. He could also see that most of the guys were smiling—they already knew what he was capable of. All he could hear was the sound of his footsteps as he approached the microphone, until the voice of the Spanish teacher pierced the silence.

"You're Sam, right?" he asked.

"Yes, sir," Sam replied, squinting as the lights illuminated his face.

"You don't need to be so nervous. From what Finn tells us, you're quite the singer. So, do you have anything prepared as an audition for us? Or do you want us to give you some time to think of something to sing?"

Sam smiled and pulled some sheet music from his backpack, handing it to the musicians assembled on the stage.

"I've got something," Sam said, "It's not exactly what I usually listen to, but I wasn't sure if you do more popular music or like musical stuff in here. And since the boys heard me do something recent, I thought I'd do something a little more dramatic for my formal audition".

"Great!" Mr. Schuester called out, "Whenever you're ready"

Sam slowly approached the microphone and nodded to the musicians. As the opening strains of the song reached the audience, Sam heard a squeal. The entire Glee Club turned to Kurt, who quickly frowned, obviously peeved at his involuntary outburst. Sam took a breath, looked out over the audience and began to sing.

_I have often dreamed  
Of a far-off place  
Where a great warm welcome  
Will be waiting for me_

It was amazing, actually. Sam found himself not noticing if he was sounding good or terrible. All he wanted to do was vent—to express those longings that he just couldn't talk about with the football team.

_Where the crowds will cheer  
When they see my face  
And a voice keeps saying  
This is where I'm meant to be_

Sam was excited about the football game on Friday. He had heard that last year's football team was awful, and if he could win a game, then he'd earn the adulation of the entire town. And that was all he wanted. Just to be accepted-not the fear that he now created in the hallways.

_I will find my way  
I can go the distance  
I'll be there someday  
If I can be strong  
I know ev'ry mile  
Will be worth my while  
I would go most anywhere  
to feel like I belong_

Sam looked down at Kurt, trying desperately to express that he hadn't actually wanted to slushie him. He was just trying to fit in. Kurt fidgeted in his seat a little, and then pointedly made an effort to look away from the golden-haired singer. Sam frowned a little, but summoned as much emotion as he could for the last chorus.

_I am on my way  
I can go the distance  
I don't care how far  
Somehow I'll be strong  
I know ev'ry mile  
Will be worth my while  
I would go most anywhere  
to find where I belong_

The music died down and for a second, all Sam could hear was his own heavy breathing. Then, after what seemed like an eternity, the Glee Club members all stood up, applauding.

"Wow, Sam" Mr. Schuester said, "I think I speak on behalf of everyone when I say, welcome!"

Sam grinned. Disney may not have been his favorite kind of music, but boy did he feel good. He felt lighter, like singing actually took some of his concerns off of his shoulders. Not only that, but he could see the row of smiles from the Glee students. The girl with the unfortunate sweater who got slushied the other day looked back and forth from him and to Finn, almost as if she were comparing them. The boys from the "Billionaire" interview were patting him on the back, congratulating him. Kurt, however, just gave Sam a glare and a quick half-smile that clearly said, "Nice voice, asshole". But even that was not enough to put a damper on Sam's day. He was in the club, and inevitable dip in popularity aside, he was glad to finally meet some people who could turn out to be real friends.

For the moment, Sam chose to be blissfully oblivious to his troubles. He was oblivious to the fact that Kurt still harbored some resentment to him. He was oblivious to the fact that Finn shot him a worried look when he saw his girlfriend sizing him up. And he was oblivious to the fact that at that moment in the auditorium's balcony, Karofsky was looking down at him, frowning.

* * *

Okay, formally now. I don't own Hercules, Disney, or the song "Go The Distance"

For those of you waiting for some more interactions between Sam and Kurt, then have no fear! After all, they are finally in Glee together, just like they will be canon-wise by next week! Hooray!

Speaking of canon, I know my timing of events is a little strange. But if I don't change anything, then this'll just be Glee: The Deleted Scenes. Which has its place, but isn't what I'm trying to accomplish.

Anyway, remember that you too can be a member of the 3R club by sending me a review!


	5. Slushie 201

Wow. Well, I wanted more Sam, and more Sam I got. And now writing Sam requires far more thought. And that led to a bit of writer's block. But here I am, and I hope that this new installment is worth the wait.

And, of course, thank you to all the reviewers out there. Another shout out to come soon, I think.

Don't own Glee. Still.

* * *

It didn't take Sam long to learn that Glee Club was about much more than just the singing. When Mr. Schuester announced a duet competition to take place the following week, Sam found out just how complicated the relationships between the Glee Club members were. He also learned that each of them would do whatever it took to win a competition.

The very day Mr. Schue announced the competition, Sam was dragged out of the main hallway into an empty classroom by a very nervous looking Rachel Berry.

"Listen," she whispered, "I really liked your audition. I was wondering if you wanted to sing your duet with me for the competition".

"But, uh..." Sam began, "Aren't you, like, dating Finn or something?"

"Yes," she said, straightening her plaid skirt and looking to the side, "I love him. But that doesn't mean that we have to work together every week. In fact, I think we could both grow so much musically if we sang with different people. Listen. I need someone who can keep up with me vocally, and sometimes Finn just isn't enough. He hasn't trained like I have."

"So you want _me_ to sing with you?" Sam asked slowly.

"Yes".

"Listen, that's really nice of you, but Finn was kind of the first friend I had here. I don't want to mess with that. Sing with him—he really likes you". Sam smiled and headed out the door, leaving a slightly dejected looking Rachel Berry behind him.

But before he had taken ten steps, he noticed Kurt approaching him in the hallway.

"I haven't forgiven you yet," he began, "But I need a partner for the duet competition. And unless you partner with Rachel, who will inevitably choose Finn, I'm your best option".

Sam smirked. Obviously his audition had impressed some of the Glee Club members, and if singing with Kurt Hummel would get him back into his good graces, then he'd be willing to take the offer. Kurt eyed him, smirking at his hair.

"Besides, if you don't partner with me, you'll never learn how to do a much better dye job on your hair".

Sam immediately stiffened.

"I don't dye my hair".

"Whatever," Kurt said lazily, "So, are you in?"

Sam nodded. "It's the least I can do".

Kurt gave a haughty smirk, handed Sam a folded slip of paper, and continued on his way to class. Sam decided that he wasn't too fond of that smile—it always felt like Kurt knew something he didn't. Sam looked down at the note.

_4:30. Choir Room._

As Sam pocketed the note, he was completely oblivious to Karofsky approaching him from behind.

"So, you not only decided to join Homo Explosion, but you've also decided to get all buddy-buddy with the fag," Karofsky said with a sneer. Sam tensed and turned around.

"Don't call him that," he muttered under his breath.

"What's that? Do you have _feelings_ for him, now? You're pathetic," Karofsky spat. "And to think, I actually thought you were gonna be an improvement over Hudson". Karofsky shoved Sam aside and walked past him, before turning and saying, "Oh, Evans? I've got a great idea for a duet. Why don't you sing Ice, Ice, Baby?"

It took Sam a moment to register that he had been slushied. He had heard the insult, but then it just felt like Karofsky had slapped him in the face. Hard. It wasn't until a couple moments later that Sam actually began to feel the cold, sticky drink oozing down his shirt. Karofsky hi-fived some of the other football players and went down the hallway, leaving the stunned blond behind. He could almost hear Finn's voice in his ear, '_No one deserves to be slushied—go through it once, and you'll see why_'.

Sam went to the locker room to wash off the slushie. As he stood in the shower, he was tempted to punch the wall in front of him. It wasn't supposed to happen like this. The football players weren't supposed to care about what he did in Glee because he was the quarterback. The Glee Club idolized him to an extent, but that wouldn't save him from the slushies. And Kurt. No wonder Kurt still didn't forgive him. It wasn't that the slushies were painful, it was just that they left you feeling isolated. Literally and figuratively cold. Sam sighed and put his face under the spray. He needed to win Friday's game.

After class, Sam entered the choir room to see Kurt already sitting, tapping his foot impatiently.

"You're late".

"It's 4:33. It's not a big deal".

Kurt glared. "When you're competing against Rachel Berry, every second counts. She may be as charming as a wooden plank, but she's good. _Very _good".

Sam laughed and wondered what Rachel had done to make Kurt have such disdain for her. Some stories about the Glee Club had yet to surface, and Sam suspected that there had to be a story there. He decided to ignore the impulse to ask about Rachel, grabbing his guitar instead.

"So," Sam said, "What do you want to sing?"

"I was hoping that we might work together on that. If only one of us picks the song, then it won't be as good".

"Okay," Sam said, taking the seat next to Kurt, who suddenly decided to focus his attention on the whiteboard. "Can we use this?" Sam asked, motioning to his guitar.

Kurt perked up. "Do you play?" he asked, failing to maintain the coldness he had been projecting since Sam entered the room.

"Yeah," Sam said, "At my old school, we all had to learn an instrument. And I thought a guitar would help me seem, you know, cool". He grinned, "I don't know if it worked, but at least it's coming in handy now".

Kurt looked up and swallowed. It looked like he was having a bit of an internal debate. Finally, after a few moments of silence, he let out a chuckle and said, "Bet you had lots of girls climbing over you at your old school".

"Well, no". Sam laughed.

"No?" Kurt said, a smile beginning to tug at the corner of his mouth.

"Yeah, I uh..." Sam said, scratching the back of his head.

"Yes?"

"I went to an all-boys school. There weren't any girls to swoon over me there".

"Oh". Kurt said, smile faltering. "Well, what can you play?"

"Basic stuff... you know, not like changing chords every second, but most things you can think of. But don't you dare mention Wonderwall...". Sam grimaced. He must have played that song fifty times when he first learned the chord progression, and now he was just sick of it.

"Fine," Kurt said, "That guitar changes things a bit. Why don't we figure out a few songs individually tonight and make a decision tomorrow? It's starting to get late".

And it was. Sam glanced up at the clock, which already read 5:45, giving Sam a half hour to walk back home. As Kurt gathered his belongings, Sam decided to ask the question that had been tugging at his mind since the slushie incident earlier that day.

"Hey, Kurt, are we cool now?"

"Look, Sam," Kurt said, "You're a nice guy. But for my own sake I can't just forgive and forget. As soon as a jock is nice to me, he turns around and insults me. You slushied me last week. You're still quarterback. Who's to say it won't happen again?" He turned around, trying to hide the pain in his eyes from Sam.

"Me". Sam said simply.

"Yeah?" Kurt scoffed, "Well, I can't trust that yet".

And with that, Kurt headed out the door to the choir room. Slightly dejected, Sam grabbed his guitar and began to head home. All he wanted from the boy was forgiveness. That way, Sam could stop thinking about him and actually move on with more important things like remaining quarterback. After all, it was just guilt that kept bringing Kurt to the forefront of his mind, right?

Of course it was.

* * *

Wanted to try to crank out a Kurt/Sam scene, since it had been a little while. But this was never intended to be a quick story. Our boys still have a ways to go, and I still have to decide what parts of canon I'd like to use. And that depends partly on if Sam is/isn't straight in canon.

I feel like they treated Sam's sexuality the way they treated religion in Grilled Cheesus-very evenhandedly. Every scene that gives evidence he might be gay was countered by evidence for good ol' fashioned heterosexuality. Who knows, maybe he'll end up bisexual?

So give love, give reviews, and I'll do my best to get these boys together.


	6. Duets 101

That night, Sam fretted over his computer again, hoping that his music shuffle function would help him find the perfect song to sing with Kurt. However, after about an hour of this, he tired of saying, "The next song, no exceptions," listening, and still deciding that it wasn't right. Who knew that he owned so many love songs? Though he had no qualms singing with another dude, Sam wasn't quite comfortable with the idea of serenading Kurt with a heart-wrenching ballad. Still, he had to find _something_ to sing.

_It's something like I apologize_

Sam listened for a moment and quickly realized this could be promising. A duet didn't necessarily have to be happy, did it? After all, he and Kurt weren't exactly the best of friends—shouldn't the song they choose reflect that?

_It's something I still can't decide_

Sam sang along with this line, thinking about how badly he wanted Kurt to accept him. After all, if joining the Glee Club meant losing any hope as having the other jocks as friends, shouldn't he at least be close with the other members of the club? What would be the point if he was rejected by both? He'd be better off being feared by the masses—at least then, he wouldn't have to worry about being slushied.

The next day passed by in a blur, and before Sam knew it, he was singing the song in front of Kurt, trying to convince the slender boy that it would make a great duet.

_But I know it gets better  
__It only gets better_

Kurt's eyes widened and Sam smiled softly. Obviously, Kurt understood that he was still apologizing, and that he could see them becoming friends one day. In that case though, why didn't he react to the first line? That was the actual apology. Why did the line "it gets better" affect him so profoundly?

_And I want to say that it's not always easy  
__But it's simple that way_

Watching Kurt, Sam continued, admitting the trouble he was having articulating his apology. Every time he tried, Kurt just pushed him away. Sam feared that this assignment was only a marriage of convenience, and that Kurt would go back to his frigid self the moment it ended. However, as Sam was thinking these things, Kurt began to sing, looking into Sam's eyes.

_And I want to stay and play it out  
__But I still have my doubts_

Kurt sighed and looked down at his feet, breaking into a rare display of emotion. Sam's eyes widened with concern. He had never seen Kurt like this—vulnerable. He always seemed so confident, like none of the teasing, none of the loneliness, affected him. And just how did he know the words to the song anyway? Kurt took a deep breath, attempted to maintain his composure, and continued:

_So you say it gets better  
__It only gets better  
__Better this way  
__Better, maybe it's better this way_

Sam sighed, singing to Kurt:

_Just give it some time_

Kurt looked up at Sam, pleading:

_Just give it some space_

Both boys turned away from each other as they sang together:

_Just give it some time, it's better this way_

Neither could see the hurt in the other's eyes, but Sam could clearly hear the loneliness in Kurt's voice.

_Beautiful things they never stay, oh, the same way  
They pass, oh they pass away, they always change_

Sam was deep in thought as he turned and stood opposite Kurt, meeting the other's eyes. What had happened to give Kurt such a defeatist attitude? Sam attempted to break through again, singing:

_Who are we is who we are  
When the act of love can get us so far  
So good I wish you would  
Think twice on me  
'Cause it only gets better_

_It only gets better_

With each verse, Kurt's stony gaze showed more and more signs of pain. With each verse, his defense fell. Kurt tried to turn away from Sam again, singing:

_Just give it some time_

_And maybe some space_

_And oooh, does it get a little better this way?_

Sam understood. He walked over to Kurt and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, singing along:

_Give it some time_

_Just give it some space_

_Just give it some—_

The two boys turned from each other for the last time, each looking upward as they continued, their unique blend of voices filling the empty choir room.

_Maybe, yes maybe, yes maybe, yes maybe  
It's better, oh, this way  
Promise me you'll always be better  
Better_

The two boys stood there in the silence created by the end of the song, before Kurt moved to grab his belongings.

"I have to go," he said, his voice hoarse, and quickly left the room.

Sam stood there, stunned for a moment, before he decided to follow Kurt. After several minutes of searching, Sam found Kurt sitting on a bench in the hallway, silently sobbing.

"Hey," Sam said, "I'm sorry if that song was a bit too emotional. I just wanted to try something different. I hear all the other groups are going for happy duets, so I thought it might give us an advantage, y'know?"

"I don't want you to comfort me," Kurt began, wiping the tears from his eyes, "I wish you hadn't followed me. Even Mercedes hardly ever sees me like this."

"But I'm here," Sam said, "and I can't just leave you here like this in good conscience. So talk. What's on your mind?"

"It's just... you wouldn't possibly know this, but 'it gets better' is a bit of a trigger phrase for me right now. There have been a lot of teen suicides recently. Gay teens."

Sam frowned. He had heard something to that extent, but he never realized that Kurt would feel so personally affected by it.

"So there's been a video campaign on the internet called 'It Gets Better.' Basically, it's a bunch of adults trying to tell people like me that my life will get better."

"But that's a good thing, right?" Sam asked.

"Yes," Kurt said, "and I honestly do believe it will get better for me someday. It's just... I don't know when. I have all of these wonderful people telling me it'll get better, but all I can see is the next day. Tomorrow is Thursday. I can look forward to at least two slushies—and that's not counting anything that you might throw at me. I can look forward to Rachel and Finn walking down the hallway hand-in-hand, and I'll be watching from the side, knowing that I'll never experience that during high school. But I can't look forward to suddenly being accepted and loved for who I am tomorrow. Maybe in Glee, and definitely at home, but at school, that just won't happen. So when you're singing that it gets better, all I can think of are the ways it hasn't."

Sam sat there in silence.

"I'm sorry," he eventually said, "I never realized... if I had, I would never have..."

Kurt gave him a half-smile.

"Never have slushied me? Listen, Sam, I don't need your pity. What I do need is just some hope, something tangible that tells me without a doubt that I'm not alone and that yes, it does get better."

At this, Sam grinned.

"Hey Kurt, I have someone that I think you should meet."

* * *

Three quick things:  
1) Song was _Better_ by Jason Mraz, and I do not own it.  
2) Sorry for the delay in posting, updates should be slightly more frequent from here  
3) I have a beta, which means that my chapters should be more grammatically correct from here on out. (And I'll revise the already posted chapters soon, too) Hooray!


	7. An Introduction to Dalton

Dalton Academy was every bit as beautiful as Sam remembered. He hadn't realized how much he loved the giant libraries, gaping windows, and intricately carved columns until he was in the monotonous hallways of McKinley. He enjoyed attending McKinley, but it had nothing on the sheer beauty of his former campus.

Kurt looked around with wide eyes. "Everybody's dressed the same, Sam, is this-"

"Dalton Academy," Sam said, cutting Kurt's question short, "My former school, and likely our competition at Sectionals this year."

"I don't understand," Kurt said to Sam. "Why bring me here?"

"It sounds like you need some advice. Advice I can't give. Here, there's somebody who you might really hit it off with. He's openly gay and our age, and last time I checked, he was mostly happy, too. His name is Blaine, and he's top dog here, captain of their a capella group, the Warblers."

Sam gave a halfhearted smile as he continued down the main hallway with Kurt. It was strange, but every arch, every column reminded Sam of a different memory from the short time he had attended the school. He knew he would have to leave soon or risk getting emotional.

"This place is amazing," Kurt breathed, gaping. "Why would anyone leave this place?"

Sam's face flushed. "It's not all it's cracked up to be," he said as the pair approached an ominously large pair of doors. Sam grabbed the handle of one of the doors and heaved it open, revealing a massive common room filled with smiling, cheering boys. The room was lit by several massive windows along the back wall, and was filled with shelves of books in both English and Latin. A small group of boys were dancing in the middle of the room and the distinctive sound of all-male a cappella singing hit the pair of McKinley students as they walked in.

_...Ga ga oooh la la  
__Want your bad romance_

The singing group froze in a final pose and the room erupted into cheers. Sam looked over to see Kurt clapping slowly, raising his eyebrow at him. Sam muttered, "It's not usually like this," and looked away, embarrassed. Blaine, the lead singer of the group, locked eyes with Sam and looked at him quizzically. Once Blaine was able to escape the steady stream of praise and accolades, he made his way over to the two outsiders.

"Sam," Blaine said simply.

"Blaine," Sam replied, equally as cold.

The two boys just stood in the doorway, staring at each other, when Kurt finally decided to make his voice heard.

"So, _you're_ Blaine," he said, stepping between the two. "My name's Kurt. Sam has told me a lot about you-"

"Oh has he?" Blaine interrupted, directing his question to Sam with a raised eyebrow. "Sorry, Kurt. I'm Blaine," he said, suddenly grinning and extending his hand. "You're probably wondering about the Warblers, right?"

Kurt shook his head. "Actually, no."

Blaine cocked his head to the side, his eyebrows shooting up. "Really? Because I'm fairly certain that you're Kurt Hummel from McKinley High School's New Directions. And if that's the case, then you're our competition for Sectionals." Blaine grinned. "I saw your performance at Regionals. Your group should have been awarded second place, but Aural Intensity played dirty. Then again, that's show choir for you," Blaine added, smirking.

Kurt blushed and gripped the sides of his jacket nervously.

"Do show choirs usually attend their competitors' performances?" Kurt asked defensively.

"It's generally considered more acceptable than spying," Blaine said jokingly, eyes twinkling. "Anyway," he added, placing a hand on Kurt's shoulder. Sam noticed Kurt tense up slightly at the contact. "If you're not here to spy, then what _are_ you here for?"

"Would you believe that I brought him here to meet you?" Sam said.

Blaine's eyebrow arched again. "Perhaps," he said cautiously.

"Well, I did," Sam said, crossing his arms. "He needs a friend-"

Kurt glared at Sam. "What I _need_," he interjected, "is to not be assaulted when I walk through the halls of my school. What I need is to wear one outfit each day, confident that it would remain stain-free. And what I need is to not be treated like some kind of freak because I'm gay." He paused for a moment, before adding nonchalantly, "A friend would be nice, too."

During Kurt's outburst, Blaine's expression changed from mild amusement to something more pained and difficult to read, his eyes directly locking with Kurt's.

"Kurt," Blaine said, "I think I know exactly where you're coming from. I used to get bullied all the time at my old school. If you want to talk, there's a pretty secluded cafe on campus. C'mon, I'll buy you a drink. Sam, I take it you don't want to join?"

Sam looked down at his feet, kicking the floor slightly. He mumbled something about having football practice and being able to catch the bus back home. Blaine nodded and began heading toward a door on the opposite side of the room with Kurt. Sam began heading back through the hall when he felt a tug at his elbow. He turned around to find Kurt standing there with a content grin.

"Hey, Sam?" Kurt said softly.

"Yeah?"

"Thank you." Kurt said, before heading back through the common room to rejoin Blaine. The two boys chatted excitedly as they left through the other door, leaving Sam alone in the hallway, trying his best to smile.


	8. Football 101

If Sam's popularity suffered greatly because he joined Glee Club, it certainly wasn't showing on Friday morning. Under threat of dismemberment, the Cheerios had come to school at 5:30am to decorate the hallways with giant "GO TITANS!" posters and streamers. Sam chuckled as he passed by a life-size photo of himself in the hallway adorned with the phrase "A WIN IS IN-EVANS-TABLE!" Clearly, high school football was the most exciting way to spend a Friday night in Lima, Ohio.

Sam loved that powerful feeling he once again wielded. All around him, students were chatting excitedly about the upcoming game, wishing him luck as he passed by. He grinned. There was no way that anything was going to stop him from winning the game, cementing his place as quarterback for the rest of the school year.

"Hey, Sam, you nervous about tonight?"

Sam turned and saw Finn standing behind him with a lopsided grin. Finn was staring at another giant photo, this one of him, that read "FINN-ISH THEM!"

Sam wanted to answer that he was terrified that his entire reputation was at stake, but ended up just saying, "Nah, not a chance. We can take these guys."

"Good to hear," Finn said, "'cause football is really, really important in this town. It's like every single person shows up to watch these games, and when you're the quarterback, it's kind of like the whole town's hopes and dreams are on your shoulders. I know. One time, when we lost, the town's mortician came to me after the game and told me to give his card to my mother to prepare for my inevitable lynching."

Sam raised an eyebrow. "That's good to hear?" he offered, trying to seem unfazed by the other boy's blatant efforts to make him nervous.

"Well, I'm so glad you're excited! I'll see you in History!" Finn said, patting Sam's shoulder and heading back down the hallway in the opposite direction.

Slightly rattled, Sam continued walking toward the gym, trying to take comfort in the encouragement of the other students. Hopefully, the pep rally taking place in an hour would bolster his spirits instead of making him even more worried.

Sam's jaw dropped when he entered the gym. The usually barren room had been filled to the brim with red and white decorations. The walls were adorned with red and white strings of lights and even more obnoxious posters.

One of the Cheerios still putting up decorations said, "Please come back in half an hour. We're still putting the finishing touches on the gym, and no students are allowed in until everything's ready."

"Kurt?" Sam asked, immediately recognizing the boy's voice, "I didn't know that you're a Cheerio. When did that happen?"

Kurt turned away from the streamer he was taping to the wall and smiled, saying, "I've been a Cheerio as long as you've known me. I joined last year in order to get more solos."

"Then why don't you wear the uniform around campus like everyone else?"

"Because, no matter how fabulous I look in this-" Kurt twirled a little and winked. "-wearing the same thing every day would make me utterly miserable."

"But don't you think people might let up a little if they saw you in that?"

Kurt cast his eyes downward, pursing his lips. "No. I tried at first, of course, but the slushies kept coming. Then, not only did I have to deal with the bullies, but also Sue's furor when she found out my uniform was stained. Apparently, being gay trumps being a Cheerio when it comes to how you're treated in the hallways."

Sam looked away from the other boy, offering only a simple, "Oh."

The awkward silence that descended between the boys seemed to last a lifetime, and was only pierced by Brittany calling for help from the other side of the gym.

"I've got this," Sam murmured and waded through a sea of red and white balloons toward the blonde cheerleader.

"Hi, Sam," Brittany said. "Can you hold the other side of this picture while I tape it?"

Sam looked at the image of a football player that Brittany was struggling with. It was a picture of Artie, with the hastily scribbled sentence "ARTIE MAKES GOOD SANDWICHES" across the bottom. Sam chuckled as he lifted up the edge of the picture. Brittany began to place tape all over the edges, talking while she worked.

"Artie's really angry at me."

Sam raised an eyebrow, "Oh? Why is that?"

"I had sex with him. He said that I used him or something."

Sam tried him best not to look surprised. He knew that Brittany and Artie had paired up for the Glee duet competition, but he didn't actually expect them to, well, _pair up_.

"Did you and Kurt have sex? 'Cause he was really mad at you last week. He kept saying things like 'Boy, when I get my hands on that football player,' but he stopped recently, so I thought he must have gotten his hands on you." Brittany said, staring off into space.

Sam's face instantly turned a deep shade of crimson. "N-no," Sam said, his usual confidence failing him, "I just slushied him."

"Oh, okay." Brittany said, placing a wide strip of tape through the center of the picture for good measure, effectively giving Artie a mustache. "That should do it," she said, pleased with herself. "Thank you for your help."

"You're welcome," Sam said, trying to crack a smile despite his extreme embarrassment.

Sam returned to Kurt's side of the gym, watching the other boy fumble with a confetti cannon.

"Need a hand?" Sam asked.

"Only if you know anything about confetti cannons," Kurt grumbled. "Sue had us bring them from the auditorium to the gym today, but I haven't the slightest idea how I'm supposed to load this thing."

Sam laughed and said, "Nope. No clue. Hey, I never asked: did you get along with Blaine? I know I just kind of left you there."

Kurt blushed slightly. "Yes. He's quite the gentleman. Apparently he's had trouble with bullies before, which was interesting to hear. He seems to think he ran from all of his troubles, but he's so confident that I have trouble believing that. He also gets where I'm coming from, which is more than I can say for anyone here."

Sam looked slightly dejected. "Yeah, he's pretty cool," he said simply. Sam moved over to the cannon and started playing with some switches on the side. "Hey, Kurt, have you tried these toggles? Maybe there's a load mode or something."

Sam bit his bottom lip, completely absorbed in the task, staring intently at the switches. Meanwhile, Kurt removed his arm from the cannon and smirked at the other boy's rapid change of topic. Then, without warning, the cannon fired with a thundering bang. Kurt leaped and grabbed onto Sam's arm for support.

"Oops," Sam said, and started laughing.

"Don't laugh!" Kurt yelled, fighting a smile of his own, still hanging on to the other boy. "We're going to have to clean all of this up in the next ten minutes!"

"Hey, but at least we know you loaded it right," Sam snickered, and Kurt couldn't help but break into a smile. The two boys stood there, laughing, as the glittering confetti slowly descended from the ceiling. Sam grinned, gasping for breath, and his eyes met Kurt's. Looking at Kurt's twinkling eyes, Sam realized just how happy Kurt was at this moment, something that he hadn't gotten a chance to witness recently, if ever. As Kurt finally stopped laughing, Sam blushed slightly, realizing that he had just been studying Kurt intently. Kurt finally moved his hand off of Sam's arm and looked away, suddenly also blushing.

"Sam?" he asked tentatively, slowly moving toward the blond through the steady stream of confetti.

"Yeah?" Sam responded, feeling his body move toward the other boy almost on its own accord, his gaze never leaving Kurt's.

"We really need to clean this confetti up."

"Yeah... Wait, what?"

"Sue's going to be here any minute, and she'll remove my vocal cords if the gym is in this state. I know; she told me."

"Okay," Sam mumbled, and went to look for a broom. What had just happened? There was this tension, this electricity that had passed through Sam after the cannon went off, and he could have sworn that Kurt was about to kiss him. Sam vented his frustration as he swept up the confetti with much more force than was necessary. He looked over at Kurt, who was flushed with embarrassment, sweeping slowly, trying not to make any eye contact with Sam.

Sam finished sweeping and quickly handed the broom to Kurt. He mumbled something about having to visit the weight room and dashed out of the gym before Kurt could protest.

What frightened Sam was that Kurt decided to abuse their newly formed friendship.

What frightened Sam even more was the pang in his gut that felt eerily like disappointment when Kurt didn't follow through.

* * *

A/N: Couple of quick things, since I'm trying to reduce my note space.  
1) Thanks for your patience. There's never been a schedule, but rest assured that I get these chapters to you soon after I create them.  
2) Thanks for your reviews. Please note that I love/accept all constructive criticism, so feel free to keep giving it (as well as compliments, of course)  
3) This chapter is the start of a 3-part football arc, so if you felt it ended abruptly, fear not: I'm not going to jump to the next day or anything any time soon.


	9. Football 102

A/N: I apologize for the delay in updating this. It was a busy year at school and during it, something happened that made it difficult to come up with ideas for this story—I became a pirate. Now, before you flame me, I'd like to express my devotion to finishing this story and giving it my full attention. I have so many great readers and over 100 reviews, so it would be an injustice not to complete it with the level of care with which I began. And so, I have not written—and will not write-another piece of fic until this one is complete.

Oh, and, with it being summer and me getting back into the swing of writing, I should be able to update more constantly than, say, once every six months.

* * *

Sam stared into the mirror in the weight room, softly touching his lips. What the heck had just happened? One minute, everything was normal, but when that confetti cannon had gone off, Sam suddenly sensed a tension that hadn't been there before. Was Kurt making a move on him? Or was he just imagining things? Staring into his own eyes, Sam searched for the answers to these questions but found nothing. There really was only one reliable way for Sam to find out: he decided that he would confront Kurt about it instead of sweeping it under the rug. It's not like he minded if the other boy had a crush on him—he just needed to know about it so things didn't get awkward again.

As he headed back into the gymnasium, Sam was surprised to see the stands filling up with students. How long had he been in the weight room for exactly? Looking around, he saw Finn waving for him to take a seat with the football team, which was assembled up front. The rally was for their sake, after all, and Coach Beiste insisted that they be given the best seats in the house.

"Dude, where were you?" Finn asked as Sam took his seat next to the taller boy.

"Weight room." Sam mumbled, casting his eyes toward the ground.

"You know, you shouldn't push yourself too hard. You might mess up your arms before the big game, and then I'd have to take over."

Sam looked up at Finn, who was grinning broadly, and said, "Give it a rest, Hudson. I was only in there to get away from all the crazy that's taken over the school today. Speaking of which, what exactly happens during one of these rallies?"

"Well, the Cheerios always perform. Sometimes Glee Club gets to, as well, but with this being a football rally, too many of us are football players to make that work. Then, they introduce the team, and everyone cheers and gets excited and stuff."

"Sounds kind of-" Sam quieted when he saw Finn pit a finger to his lips and the lights began to dim, leaving only a single spotlight in front of a microphone.

Principal Figgins approached the microphone, clearing his voice loudly, before reading a short speech from a stack of index cards he was holding.

"Attention, students. Today, we are here to celebrate our McKinley Titans, the football team that will surely lead us-" Figgins paused, moving the top index card to the back of the stack, "to the championship."

The crowd cheered loudly, and Figgins held up a hand to quiet them down.

"Before we do that, though, I have a few announcements. The school nurse has asked me to inform you that her ice packs have been replaced with green gelatin, and she asks the perpetrator to step forward so that she can continue her practice of giving an ice pack to every student, regardless of ailment. Also, whoever posted the picture of my head on a naughty bikini body on the school bulletin board needs to remove it by the end of the day, otherwise serious disciplinary action will be taken."

There was some snickering from the crowd, causing Figgins to look up and glare as he changed index cards yet again. Returning his gaze to the cards, he continued, "And now, join me in putting our hands together for the McKinley High Cheerios, winners of six consecutive national titles."

The crowd erupted with applause and the spotlight disappeared and Figgins walked off the stage. In the darkness, Sam could make out the outlines of bodies rushing back and forth on the stage, getting into position. Then, without warning, music began to play loudly, and the lights came on, revealing a fully formed human pyramid, with smaller pyramids at each side. As the pyramid broke down, each Cheerio did a series of flips and kicks to the beat, smiling as though splits were the most natural position in the world. Suddenly, Kurt appeared in the center of the formation with a wireless microphone in front of his face, and began singing.

_Girl, please excuse me if I'm coming too strong  
__But tonight is the night we can really let it go_

Recognizing the song almost instantly, the crowd erupted into cheers. It was as if there was some unspoken rule that losers like Kurt could be popular within the bounds of a performance. Sam watched and listened in disbelief, surprised by the slight growl in the Cheerio's voice, something that hadn't occurred during their earlier duet. Brittany then walked up, with a similar microphone to Kurt's and took the lead, smirking, as the rest of the Cheerios continued performing flips to the beat.

_My girlfriend's out of town and I'm all alone  
__Your boyfriend's on vacation and he doesn't have to know_

Wondering if the implications of that verse were intentional, Sam watched as Kurt approached Brittany, eyes gleaming as he continued.

_No, oh, oh  
__Oh, oh  
__No one can do the things  
__I'm gonna wanna do to you_

Brittany smiled, closing the gap between the two performers, before continuing to sing.

_No, oh, oh  
__Oh, oh  
__Shout aloud, screaming loud_

Santana and Quinn joined the other two performers as they all shouted the next verse in unison.

_Let me hear you go!  
__Baby, I like it!  
__The way you move on the floor_

At this, the Cheerios all pointed to the football players assembled in the front who cheered loudly. Out of the corner of his eye, Sam could swear Kurt was pointing to him. Or maybe Finn? Yeah, that would be much less awkward, seeing as how Kurt and Finn had some sort of understanding between them.

_Baby, I like it!  
__Come on and give me some more  
__Oh, yes I like it!  
__Screaming like never before  
__Baby, I like it!  
__I- I- I- like it!_

By this point, the crowd was up on their feet, dancing along as the Cheerios executed a series of expertly timed basket tosses.

_Party, karamu, fiesta, forever_

Grinning widely at all the football players as she approached the front of the performance area, Santana rolled her hips and continued the song.

_Guys, please excuse me if I'm misbehaving, oh  
__I'm trying to keep my hands off, but you're begging me for more._

She walked over to Sam, pulling him out of his seat, while the football team hooted and hollered at him for catching the eye of the Latina cheerleader. Santana placed a hand on Sam's sides, and slowly lowered them as she sang

_Round, round, round  
__Give a low, low, low_

At Figgins' glare, the Latina shoved Sam back into his seat, where he received grins from his fellow football players almost immediately.

_Let the time, time pass  
__'Cause we're never getting old!_

All the Cheerios joined in for one final chorus, dancing to the song with expert precision, cartwheeling back and forth in front of the team.

_Baby, I like it!  
__The way you move on the floor  
__Baby, I like it!  
__Come on and give me some more  
__Oh, yes I like it!  
__Screaming like never before  
__Baby, I like it!  
__I- I- I- like it!_

The Cheerios had reformed the massive human pyramid they began the song with, and confetti cannons fired over the crowd as the song came to an end. Blushing slightly at the memory that came with the confetti, Sam jumped to his feet, joining the crowd in giving the Cheerios a standing ovation. They were clearly champions for a reason: their dance had combined all the most impressive aspects of cheerleading with perfectly timed choreography. And Sam gaped at the New Directions members on the team. Who knew that they had those powerful voices? Especially Kurt, who Sam had never heard sing in a lower register. The growling quality of his voice had sent shivers down the blond's spine when he had heard it.

As the Cheerios filed out of the auditorium, Santana winked at Sam, smiling and giving a little wave.

Finn leaned over to the quarterback, asking, "What's going on there?"

Sam looked back at the taller boy, eyebrows raised. "I have no idea."

One thing was certain, though. After that performance, the crowd was more than ready to see the Titans win tonight's game. Pumped with energy, Sam couldn't help but feel confident he would lead the team to victory. He _had_ to, he realized as he gazed out toward the excited crowd leaving the auditorium, if he was ever going to stay top dog at the school.

* * *

A/N: I don't own Glee, nor do I own "I Like It"

I hope this was as good as things were before my hiatus, and hopefully you haven't lost faith in the story yet. 'Cause there's a lot of fun drama to come-especially with the big game being next chapter!


	10. Football 201

"_And now, put your hands together for your quarterback, leader of the Titans, number six, SAM EVANS!"_

Sam swallowed nervously as he jogged out onto the field after the announcer's introduction, waving to the cheering crowd. Finn was right: the home side of the stands was completely packed with what looked like every person in the town. Toward the front, he could see his younger siblings in the stands jumping up and down and shouting "Go, Sammy!" Sam grinned—if he won, it would be for the sake of the those two, not the giant crowd as a whole.

Glancing over to the side of the field, the blond could see the Cheerios keeping the crowd's energy up. Sam spotted Kurt toward the center, who paused for a moment to mouth 'Good luck,' before continuing his cheering. The quarterback blushed a little, knowing that he had the full support of the Cheerios, including the boy who absolutely despised him a week ago.

"It's pretty intense, huh?" Finn asked, jogging over to Sam's side. "You imagine just how many people will be here cheering—and it's always so much more when you actually see them." Scratching the back of his head, Finn added, "You know I've got your back, right? I want quarterback, but I want us to win more, so I'm not gonna screw up on purpose or anything."

Sam nodded, and began to smile before adding, "Yeah, thanks. I'm gonna do my best, at least. Don't really want to be lynched tonight."

Finn chuckled and patted Sam on the back, then the two players rejoined the team as a whole in the center of the field. Karofsky gave the quarterback a quick glare when he arrived, grumbling, "Don't mess this up, Blondie." Sam figured that was as close to support as he would receive from the larger jock, and gave a quick nod in response. Everyone _was_ relying on him and Sam couldn't help but feel his insides churning in anxiety and excitement.

This was it. This game would decide much more than the win-loss record of the Titans: Sam's entire reputation as the new quarterback would be decided with every play.

After losing the coin toss, the Titans were forced to receive the opening kickoff. The team gained about twenty-five yards, and Sam trotted onto the field to try and score in the opening drive. It would be just what he would need to get the confidence to stay above the other team the entire game. Beiste had told the team to keep the ball on the ground as much as possible, so Sam decided to begin with a few running plays.

Beiste was certainly intuitive, because before Sam knew it, the Titans had advanced considerably, ending up within twenty yards of the end zone. However, the other team, the Rhinos, had caught on to Sam's style. His first two attempts to keep the ball on the ground resulted in a mere two yard gain, so Sam decided to throw on the third play. The ball sailed toward Puck, but he was too well covered and couldn't catch it. Beiste gripped her clipboard tightly in frustration, and sent the kicker on the field to gain the Titans the first three points of the game.

Watching from the sidelines as the defensive team took the field, Sam was awestruck by the Rhinos' sheer offensive power as they began their first offensive drive. Like the Titans, the Rhinos were playing a very ground-based game, preferring to power their way through the Titans rather than attempting to throw above them. And it was working. Despite Beiste's screams to provide better coverage, the Rhinos continued to advance down the field, earning them a touchdown which they promptly followed by earning another point.

Having seen the style of the opposing team, each team adjusted in the following drives, each earning a touchdown as the first half of the game continued. This brought the score to 14-10, with the Rhinos in the lead and only five minutes remaining in the first half. Sam could feel the tension around him as he brought his team into a huddle as they prepared for their (likely) last offensive drive of the half. As Beiste had instructed, Sam was keeping the ball on the ground, not only to exploit the Rhinos' weakness, but also to run the clock down so that they wouldn't have time to get any points if and when the Titans scored.

As the clock struck three minutes, Sam once again found himself at the twenty yard line, but this time decided to stay on the ground after an incomplete pass. However, between two more plays he was only able to gain seven yards, still three short of the coveted first down. If the Titans kicked, they would likely round out the half one point behind the Rhinos. If they tried to run or pass, they could lose the ball to the other team, which still had a decent amount of time to cross the field when time-outs were factored in. Choosing the safer decision, Sam prepared for another field goal, ignoring the shouts from the crowd to go for it. The kicker ran up to the ball and kicked it, immediately grimacing as he watched the ball arc to the left and outside of the posts.

He had missed the shot.

Sam groaned and returned to the sidelines, unable to make eye contact with either Beiste or the crowd for the remainder of the half. The Titans defense were able to stop the Rhinos from advancing far enough to score, and as the half came to a close, the Titans were still trailing by four. Not the worst position, but nowhere near where Sam had hoped to be at this point. Shaking his head and keeping his eyes trained downward, Sam jogged back to the locker room with the rest of the team, waiting for Beiste to come and lecture them.

The team sat on the benches of the locker room, hardly speaking to one another, when Beiste entered the room, clipboard in hand.

"I'm sure you expect some big inspirational speech right about now, boys." she began calmly, challenging each of them to meet her eyes as she glanced across the room. "So I'm gonna do my best to give you one. The way I see it, you're playing a decent game out there. Not a great one, but a decent one. And so are they, which is why you're just about tied up. I know you guys are tired—for whatever reason, you just haven't been workin' together quite as well this week as you used to. But you're gonna need to if you want to beat them. They're all power—running and forcing their way past you guys. If you want to beat 'em, you've got to _outsmart_ them as a team. And trust me, they've got just about as much brains as a raccoon with three feet. So, do what you've got to and get yourselves back to where you were not even a week ago, and you'll do just fine." Beiste grinned, then shouted, "WHO'S GONNA CRUSH 'EM?"

The team grinned and shouted back, "TITANS!"

Beiste's eyes gleamed with love of the sport before she responded, "I CAN'T HEAR YOU, BOYS! I SAID WHO'S GONNA CRUSH 'EM?"

"TITANS!"

Beiste nodded and added, "Darn right! Now go out there and show them what McKinley is all about!"

Newly energized, the team jogged back onto the field, but before he could leave the locker room Sam was pulled aside by Finn.

"Hey now," Sam said, scratching the back of his head, "You're winning, I know. No need to rub it in."

Finn knitted his eyebrows together, "Were you even listening before the game? I want us to _win_, Sam, and I kind of feel like the pressure's getting to you a little."

Sam frowned, crossing his arms. "So you want to take my place?"

"Nah, it wouldn't help anyone in the middle of a game. I just wanted to tell you what Beiste told me when I got let back on the team. Last year, our football team sucked. Like, it _really_ sucked. And I was quarterback then, too. Beiste told me that my problem is that I put way too much pressure on every game, like my entire reputation, my whole future, like everything depended on it." Finn looked down at the ground, pressing his lips together in thought. "And you know what? I think she was right. And I think you're starting to do the same thing, Sam."

Sam shrugged. "Maybe. So what do I do about it?"

"I dunno. She never really got to that part." Finn laughed and said, "I think you need to just relax, though. Like when you auditioned for Glee: you seemed so into it, even though I know you were freaking out like you told me before. Maybe treat the plays the same way you would a solo."

Sam smiled a little. Finn was probably right: from the moment he took the field, all Sam had been able to think about was everything that was at stake during the game. The adoration of the crowd, the respect he'd gained in the hallways, the ability to be in Glee without picking up too much flack for it—it all seemed to ride on the outcome. Still, if he was able to direct all that nervous energy into his plays, Sam knew that the Rhinos wouldn't stand a chance.

The blond grabbed Finn's elbow, genuinely grinning by this point. "Thanks, Finn."

"No problem. But you know, if the pressure _is _getting to you, you could always tell Beiste you don't want to be quarterback after this game." Finn replied, smiling sweetly while rocking side to side with his arms behind his back.

"In your dreams, Hudson." Sam said, before the two Gleeks returned to the field for the second half of the game.

As he approached the stands, Sam could see the ending of what looked to be another electric Cheerios performance. The cheerleaders were standing in several large towers with their arms stretched wide in what must have been the ending pose of a number. The crowd, meanwhile was cheering extremely loudly and clapping enthusiastically. Sam wondered for a moment if some of the townspeople only came to football games to see the halftime shows as he looked over the excited crowd.

Turning his attention to the Cheerios, Sam noticed that they were all beaming. The quarterback wondered, as his gaze crossed over to Kurt, if the cheerleaders in the New Directions liked Glee more or not, since he had rarely seen them in such good spirits as he had during the Cheerios performances. Giving the cheerleaders a quick thumbs up, and receiving a grin from Kurt and a flirty wave from Santana, Sam returned to the field to begin the second half of the football game.

The pep talk must have worked, because before the end of the third quarter, Sam and the Titans had reduced the gap between the scores to one point. The Rhinos were still leading, but Sam could see that their play style was becoming sloppier and more easily predictable. Sam began running more complex plays, finally able to confuse the Rhinos and get the ball into the air a little. On the first drive of the final quarter, Sam passed the ball to Puck, who ran the ball well into enemy territory before being tackled. Sam could hear the crowd explode, could feel the sudden pride that the town was regaining as they witnessed the play.

On the next play, Karofsky made some extra time for Sam, and he spotted Finn in the endzone, ready to receive the touchdown that would put the Titans in the lead. Sam grinned, trying to ignore his nerves, and shot the ball into the air, but before it could reach Finn, a Rhino leapt up and grabbed it, running toward the opposite end of the field. Just as quickly as the crowd had begun cheering, Sam could hear cries of indignation and anger directed at him. With the unexpected score, the Rhinos widened the lead to seven points as they missed their kick for the extra point.

With only the one play's worth of rest, Sam returned to the field as the clock continued to dwindle. Possession of the ball swapped back and forth between teams for most of the quarter, leaving Sam in a desperate attempt to get a touchdown however possible within the game's last minute.

_You've got to outsmart them as a team._

In the huddle, Sam said to the team, "They've grown accustomed to us running throughout the game. We need to trick them if we want to win this thing."

Sam faked a handoff to his runner, then tossed the ball toward Finn, who had broken free of his cover. This time, the pass was true and the tall teen was able to catch the ball without much difficulty. The Titans made their way to the endzone and scored a touchdown.

The score was 20-19 and the Rhinos were in the lead with only five seconds—enough for one last play—on the clock. The pressure was mounting, and Sam could feel the familiar pit of dread beginning to form in his stomach. If they kicked, they'd get one point and end up even with the other team at the end of the game. But if they went for the far more difficult two point conversion, the Titans could win everything in the last play. Nodding solemnly at his team, Sam knew what he had to do.

As the last play began, Sam blocked out the cacophony of stressors surrounding him. If Finn was right, it would be the only way he could even hope to win this game. As the play began, Sam looked around at his sweat drenched team mates—they didn't work this hard to lose on a gamble. He looked over at his siblings, who were clearly shouting something, cheering on their big brother. He saw the Cheerios, who had stopped cheering for this last play to just watch it unfold. Kurt's brow was furrowed in concentration as his eyes tracked the blond's every movement. As he got the ball, Sam saw a gap. Ignoring everything and everyone around him, Sam rushed forward and leapt into the opening, before feeling a crushing sensation push him toward the ground. Groaning, he looked down and saw color. He was in the endzone—the Titans had won the game!

At that point, noise started to filter its way back into Sam's mind and he could hear the deafening screams of the crowd. He saw Coach Beiste toss her clipboard to the ground and throw a punch in the air. Grinning, Sam took a chance to break away from the team and run over to the stands, where his siblings were waiting to congratulate him. When he reached them, Sam laughed and lifted them into the air, ignoring the tears threatening to form at the corners of his eyes.

He'd done it: his status at the school and in the town would be secure now. His siblings were proud of him. Even Karofsky was grinning, chatting with Azimio in the center of the field. Kurt gave Sam a quick smile, which the quarterback returned. The two of them would have to have a chat about what had happened before the rally—but not tonight. Tonight, Sam only had one person he wanted to thank.

Waiting patiently for the deep congratulatory kiss Rachel was giving Finn to end, the blond jock made his way over to the taller boy. Sam smiled, "Looks like you don't need to be quarterback to get what you want after all," he teased, "But seriously, dude, thanks. What you said in the locker room about blocking stuff out—it really worked."

Finn blushed and grinned, "'Course it did. I thought of it, after all. But don't think this means I don't want quarterback anymore." The tall jock's grin fell slightly before he continued, "Popularity is a funny thing, Sam. Even the big football heroes have to constantly work to stay on top. We won, and that's awesome, but you're going to have to keep it up if you want to keep your status intact. Trust me—one mistake and suddenly, you're clawing your way up from the bottom again."

Sam shuddered at the thought. Why couldn't high school be easier? Shouldn't being a football hero for a game ensure his status for a good while? Why did he have to work so hard to maintain the ability to be in Glee club without getting half the grief that Rachel and Kurt had to go through?

"But, hey," Finn added quietly, "Good game. No use fretting over that stuff when we just won, right?"

Sam nodded and the two of them made their way to the locker room, ready to take on the next wave of challenges threatening their popularity. But first, Sam decided, he would take his siblings out for celebratory pancakes. The upcoming duets, issues with Kurt, and the rest of the football season would have to wait for at least one night.

* * *

A/N: Writing football at an accessible, interesting level is far more difficult than I thought. Anyway, as always, I don't own Glee. And, as always, the story is still on my mind and I'm still set on completing it. You can look forward to more insight into Sam's Dalton past, Santana's schemes, Finn's quarterback aspirations, and—of course—Kurt and Sam's budding... whatever it is, as the updates continue.


	11. Home Economics

As could be expected, Sam was a god among men during the week after the football game. Left and right, random students were giving him high fives in the hallway and grinning broadly at him. He heard whispered conversations that often began like: "I hear he leaped over the entire defensive line to win" or "Did you know that Sam stopped one of the linebackers with _one finger?_" It was over the top, but Sam didn't mind in the slightest—he finally felt like a part of McKinley.

But as he passed by Kurt in the hall, the blond realized that the day of the football game had left him with a little bit of unfinished business. The two had to duet together before the end of the week, and Sam didn't want unvoiced, awkward feelings between them messing that up. A Breadstix coupon was at stake, and if Santana could be believed, that was just about as gourmet as things got in Lima. Sam grinned at the thought of warm, soft breadsticks paired with a zesty tomato sauce. He _had _to win, so he had to figure out just what happened before the pep rally. It was as simple as that. The blond settled for a smile and a half-wave at the other boy for the moment, hoping for an opportunity to speak with Kurt in a less public setting.

That opportunity came, to Sam's disdain, in Home Economics class when he and Kurt were paired for the cooking project of the day: cupcakes. Kurt was immediately thrilled, muttering something about how they were beginning to fall out of fashion, but if he could make a royal icing, he could decorate them in an elegant wedding-like manner. Sam just gaped as Kurt ran around the room, snatching up ingredients, bowls, and utensils for the pair to use before staring at the recipe and promptly throwing it away when the teacher's back was turned.

"Uhh, Kurt. Don't we need that to make the cupcakes?" Sam asked, staring at the trash can as if he could mentally retrieve the discarded recipe from it. _Which would be awesome_, he thought briefly as Kurt gave his answer.

"Not if we want to make gourmet cupcakes. Those ones are fine for children's birthdays or something, but I know better recipes. Here, grab that bowl and start mixing together the wet ingredients. I'll measure everything, you just need to put it in the bowl."

"Like this?" Sam asked after combining the dry ingredients in a separate bowl.

"Dry into wet, right?" he asked when he wanted to combine the two bowls.

"Umm, should there be this many lumps, Kurt?"

"Could you pass a wooden spoon?"

"Is it mixed enough yet?"

Finally, after about ten minutes of Sam only asking for instruction, Kurt threw down his rubber spatula and turned to the other boy. "Okay, spill." he said, an eyebrow raised in expectation.

"What?" Sam said, mixing the cake batter slightly faster.

"_This." _Kurt stated simply, "Before the game, we weren't exactly friends but we _talked_. All week, you haven't said two words to me—just these awkward half-smiles in the hall." Kurt threw his hands in the air, "If we want to win the duet competition, it might help if we're on speaking terms! So tell me. What did I do?"

Sam looked quickly around the classroom. Several of the other pairs had abandoned their cupcake efforts to watch the forming disagreement. "You think you could, y'know, lower things down a bit?" Sam entreated in a hushed tone, "People are staring a little..."

Kurt looked up and scoffed. "Let them. They're just jealous of my royal icing. Let's see them try to make flowers that hold their form on their cupcakes with that buttercream." As the word 'buttercream' passed Kurt's lips, he wrinkled his nose in disdain.

"I—uh, I don't think that's it." Sam looked over at the icing flower that Kurt was working on. "But I honestly don't think we're going to get any extra credit for making mini wedding cakes, Kurt."

"This isn't for credit. This is _practice_. What if someone wants me to plan their wedding and I don't know how much effort goes into the cake? The baker could drastically overcharge me!" Pausing for a moment and collecting himself, Kurt turned back to Sam and consciously lowering his voice, he asked "So, really. What's going on? You get on the team and you slushie me. You get your first major win and stop talking to me. If this is gonna continue, I'd hate to see what you're going to do if the Titans make the championship game."

Sam waved his hands in the air in protest, "It's not like that-"

"It's not? Because it certainly looks that way."

Sam sighed before replying, "Look, I was just wondering if things were going to be weird for the duet. You can tell me stuff, you know? Even if you think it'll be awkward..." Sam didn't want to come right out and ask Kurt directly if he had a crush on him, or if there was some tension when the confetti cannons fired.

Kurt stared at Sam for a moment with a completely confused expression. "What are you talking about? _You're _the one who's been acting weird. Ever since the game, it's been Mr. Popular Sam who can't spare Kurt more than a glance! You want things to be good for our duet? Then stop hinting at things and just tell me what's freaking you out!" Kurt hissed, as he tossed a ruined icing flower to the side in annoyance.

Sam looked around the room again. Uninterested or unable to hear the conversation between the boys, most of the pairs had resumed their cupcake preparation. Sam took a deep breath, looked Kurt in the eyes, and said in a low tone, "There was a moment before the rally... Remember when that confetti cannon fired? Well, I don't know, but it felt like there was this tension between us that hasn't been there before. Kind of like," Sam swallowed and lowered his voice even more, "like you wanted to _kiss _me or something."

The shock was clear in Kurt's face his eyes widened and his cheeks flushed slightly. Sam quickly added, "Not that it's a bad thing! I mean, I don't care if you want to kiss me... I mean, I _do_ care, but I don't think it's nasty or an abomination or whatever. I mean, it just was this moment and I thought we could, you know, talk about it? Maybe?"

Kurt arched an eyebrow sharply, the natural color beginning to return to his face. "This was when the confetti cannon went off, Sam? I don't remember it like that." Kurt said simply, with an apologetic, if not slightly calculating glance, "It went off, then we started to clean, right? Was it before or after we started sweeping?"

Kurt didn't know. He _didn't know._ Sam had been prepared for a number of explanations: a crush, Finn had sent Kurt to throw Sam off of his game, acting practice. But Kurt didn't even know about the moment the blond jock was referring to. How could he not? There had been so much tension—so much expectation, and nothing had happened. Sam couldn't have possibly imagined the whole thing. "It was before," he said weakly, suddenly not feeling very sure of the situation.

"Huh," Kurt said, pursing his lips in thought, "I don't know, Sam. Anyway, if _that's_ all this is about, then we can just go back to normal, right? I mean, you just must have seen something that didn't actually happen, so it was all a mistake, really. Look, you're attractive, but you're straight. And trust me, I learned my lesson about going after straight jocks last year. I don't need a reminder., so I'd never make a move like that" Kurt said, smiling in a wistful way about his past crush.

"Uhh, yeah," Sam said, blushing. His mind was going too fast for him to deal with everything going on in a coherent way. "Must have been crazy or something. Sorry for acting so weird. Umm, do you mind putting these in the oven for me? I need to use the restroom."

Kurt nodded, so Sam quickly made his exit from the rapidly shrinking classroom into the safety of the empty hallways. He _hadn't_ imagined the tension. Sam didn't stand in front of that mirror in the weight room trying to compose himself because of some trick of the light. Even if Kurt didn't feel it, Sam definitely had. Which only left two possibilities: either Kurt had gotten so embarrassed about making a move that he'd lied to Sam or he actually hadn't felt the tension, and only Sam had. Either way, the jock had been left with a free pass to move onward from the situation and concentrate on the duet. Ultimately, that had been his goal, so Sam thought he should have felt better. Instead, all he felt was an empty pit in his stomach, which felt like it was tumbling over and over all of a sudden. What did it all mean?

"Looks like Sammy boy's skipping class," a female voice said slowly in an amused tone behind the Titan's back. "Wonder if the school knows the star quarterback is so _naughty._"

Turning around, Sam saw Santana in full Cheerio attire, grinning and raising her eyebrows suggestively. "Not now, Santana," he said flatly, beginning to walk toward the bathroom, "I'm just headed to the restroom." As he entered the men's restroom, Santana smirked and followed him in, not hesitating for a moment.

"This is a_ guy's _restroom, Santana. If you need to talk that badly, can't you just wait outside or something?"

Santana shrugged and examined her nails, "Wouldn't be the first time I'm in a men's restroom," she said plainly, "Anyway, I've got a proposition for you and your froggy lips. How would you like to take Puck's place as my primary boyfriend? That's the only one who gets kissing rights and all publicity. Since he's been in juvie, Puck's a bit too much of a liability to my reputation for the role. But you—Mr. Star Quarterback. You'd be _perfect._" The Latina breathed out the last word, letting it linger on her lips as he eyelids dropped slightly.

"What's in it for me?" Sam asked, "You get a major popularity boost—I see that. But why should I agree to this?"

Santana held up a hand and scoffed, "Boy, have you _seen_ me? I'm granting you unlimited access to this bangin' body, and you ask me _why_ you should agree? Seriously, I think you may have gotten a concussion from those other football players landing on your head. The question here is not _why_ you should date me, but _when_ you'll agree. Which, judging by your hesitance, will be" Santana tilted her head to the side and gave Sam a once-over with her eyes, "Three days. And trust me, that's almost a record for someone being able to hold out."

Waving and slowly making her exit, while swaying her hips, Santana called over her shoulder "Think about it. I'll be waiting. In the meantime, go shove some delicious, firm _cupcakes_ into that trouty mouth of yours."

After Santana left, Sam just stared at himself in the mirror. Popularity had come with a lot to be thankful for. He wanted for nothing at the school, and finally was accepted into McKinley's social elite who were admired by all the other students. The problem was that he was being offered too much: first this strange, unresolved emotion between him and Kurt and now an offer from Santana for a girlfriend. All he had wanted was acceptance, but now he felt that every decision had a bearing on his status as the top dog—and as he stared into his tired eyes in the mirror, Sam just didn't know what to do anymore.

* * *

A/N: Hey, look! It's a regular update! Anyway, it's pretty nice to have some drama around here that isn't directly football related. Poor Sam, he'll figure some stuff out soon enough, I suppose, but I don't know if he's gonna like what he finds. And what's up with Santana? More to come fairly soon!

Oh, and I don't own Glee. Still.


End file.
